Storms and Silence
by Scarlett Rogue
Summary: Spock missed Vulcan storms a lot; Earth storms were so different. Perhaps another force of nature, Jim Kirk, can show Spock that earth storms are just as good, if not better. Very Fluffy Slash.


**Summary: Spock missed Vulcan storms a lot; Earth storms were so different. Perhaps another force of nature, Jim Kirk, can show Spock that earth storms are just as good, if not better. Very Fluffy Slash.  
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**Hi everyone, it's me again! I promised myself I wouldn't make anymore Spirk story until I posted a chapter of my other story, but then I heard thunder outside and saw lightning cascading passed my window, and I was inspired. Oh, and it's 2:49 in the morning, therefore I'm not responsible for my actions. As always, enjoy!**

Spock missed Vulcan. Nobody could say that he didn't. He missed the color of the sand that he looked out on each day, the heat on his back all times of the year, the dry wind on his face when he went outside. He missed sneaking away atop his favorite rock and watching his world turn. He missed the people, though most would never miss him. And he missed the storms.

Storms on Vulcan were much to his liking. The wind kicked up a notch, sending dirt and small rocks in every direction. Sandstorms, he discovered later, were considered one of the many banes of human existence, but Vulcans were built to weather through such conditions. It was true that not all Vulcans loved the sandstorms as much as Spock, but that was because not many Vulcans wished to be camouflaged their entire lives.

Spock always looked for an excuse to not be seen. The Vulcans in his class growing up would claim that he begged for attention, but it wasn't his fault if he was smarter than all the others. He never wanted to stand out, but he had inadvertently been doing so since his birth.

The other thing about storms that he loved was the silence. Though the wind was loud, the people were quiet. It made it easier for Spock to close his eyes and imagine himself in a different world, a better world. His sensitive ears no longer picked up on useless chatter. He just heard the wind. That was it.

And finally, what he loved the most about the storms was the dirt. Most people would assume that Spock was a neat-freak; on the contrary, he loved getting dirty. It was another disguise to hide himself from other people. When he left Vulcan he gave up the chance to take comfort in the small, natural miracle.

Because, as he had learned on his first day on Earth, Earth storms were nothing like storms on Vulcan. Not the one he got caught it. The sheets of rain poured down on him and seeped through his clothes until they plastered themselves to his tall, lean frame and made him feel naked. How did he go from feeling so hidden to so exposed? The lightning blinded his eyes and the thunder struck his sensitive ears with a painful shatter, and he did all he could to get out of that weather fast. As a general rule, Spock did not like Earth storms.

But some forces of nature one could not ignore or alienate themselves from forever. Such was the case with one James T. Kirk.

Two months after the Narada incident, Spock watched in awe as Jim ran outside in a heavy storm, the water pouring so fast that it soaked through his sweater and jeans within minutes. Jim immediately headed for the nearest puddle and jumped it in, sending water everywhere. He stopped jumping for a second to beckon for Spock to join him. The older man shook his head, but Jim was not easily swayed. He grabbed onto the Commander's hand and pulled the unwilling man out into the cold.

"Why do you like this so much?" Spock asked as he stood with his hands (for once) wrapped around his chest and shivered.

"Why don't you?" Jim responded as he spun around in circles, emitting childish giggles every few seconds.

"It is cold. And wet. And illogical."

"Illogical? How so?" Jim stopped spinning and stood in front of his new friend, hands on hips.

"Storms are supposed to hide the world. This does not." Spock raised a wet eyebrow at the captain's laughter.

"Of course it doesn't." He stepped closer to Spock and held onto the man's shoulders. "On earth, we don't like to hide what's real. Neither does our weather. We expose the truth, we live in it, and those of us who aren't afraid to look in the mirror each day dance in it."

With that, he gripped Spock's wrists and swung the Vulcan around. At first Spock panicked, calculating the probability of him regretting this in the morning to be approximately 98.75%. But the sound of Jim's laughter broke through that quickly.

As the rain pelted down around them, Jim laughed louder and began singing silly, illogical, _human _songs. Spock's ears got used to the rapturous shatters of thunder and his eyes widened in wonder at the bright streaks of light flashing before his eyes.

"It's...quite beautiful."

"Yes," Jim said, at his side. "It's real. That's why people love rain so much, you know. Because it washes away everything fake and just leaves you with reality. And it keeps you real."

Spock was so used to basking in the dirt of Vulcan storms that he couldn't fathom wanting to be washed clean, exposed, for everyone to see.

"It is not easy for everyone to show their true personality, Jim."

"Just try." Wordlessly, Jim reached up to cradle the Vulcan's face in his hand, sliding his wet fingers along Spock's cheek. Spock waited for something to happen but Jim stood still, the smile on his handsome features never changing.

"What do I do?" Spock asked in a shaky voice.

"Kiss me," Jim whispered back. Spock didn't know what possessed him to do what he did immediately after; maybe the rain had soaked into his brain. But he did it, and he wouldn't lie to himself by acting like he didn't enjoy it.

He slowly pressed the tips of his fingers against Jim's, surprised by the heat that coursed through his veins by doing so. Everything felt so new, every touch like he had never experienced. He pushed their entire palms together and blushed green when he realized that the moisture of the rain only made it better, intensified the already heated kiss. He closed his eyes and leaned his head back to prevent the small breathy moan that was trying to escape.

Escape, it did, when he felt Jim's hot breath on his ear.

"And now I'll kiss you," he whispered. A few seconds later Spock felt Jim's soft lips press against his own and he leaned into the man to return the kiss with as much passion as he could muster.

He had heard about kissing in the rain being highly romantic for humans, but he never imagined this. He never imaged it to be so liberating, so real and honest and _true _to who he was. He spent so long hiding in the sand that he missed the water that would wash every fear and regret from his body. All that was left now was he and Jim, their bodies pushed together, arms twisted around each other to prevent the other from pulling away, and the rain drops running down their face and over their wet lips as they moved together in harmony.

And Spock was forced to admit that he miscalculated earlier; the actual probability of him regretting this night was exactly 0%.

**Very fluffy, I know. Hope you liked. If there are any mistakes I apologize. After reading and checking for mistakes, the time is exactly 2:58 am. I checked, but my tired state may have missed something. Let me know how I did at such an early hour, please and thank you!**


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